Discernment is a word we Catholics throw around a lot, especially when we’re talking about big decisions that need to be made, or more likely, have already been made. I know that I don’t usually share my discernment process with the world until it’s over, until I’ve already felt like God said yes, or that I knew which way to move. Which I think is natural, discernment is a vulnerable place, and it’s tough to open that up to the world, to acknowledge publicly that you don’t know what you’re doing. But I’m going to do it anyways, because sometimes the answer to a period of discernment is no, and you unexpectedly find yourself facing a closed door and a new path.
About a year ago Mark and I started talking more seriously about children. And we both had been feeling separately in prayer that God was asking us to be open to life. But boy oh boy, was I not ready for another pregnancy. I was still a bit of a wreck after Charlotte, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and I knew I had more healing to go through before being able handle that again. But we still felt this nagging from the Holy Spirit. So we started to talk about other options.
We have both always wanted to be able to adopt, to welcome a child into our hearts and our homes that needed a family. I’ve told Mark since we were first married, that one day he’s going to come home and find a new little face there to greet him unexpectedly. And he’s okay with that. So we thought that maybe this was the time. Maybe, God was indeed asking us to be open to life, just not biologically.
We started taking baby steps. We told a couple people we trust and asked them to pray with us and for us. We started researching options, and if there were any on our limited budget. We reached out to Catholic Charities to learn more about adopting through the foster system.
The only door that seemed to be open was adopting through the foster system- we don’t have the money for a private adoption through an agency. So we walked through and kept praying. We filled out all the paperwork (ALL the paperwork), and went through fingerprinting and background checks and more paperwork after that. We wrote lengthy family histories, together and separately.
This was the stage that we told our families. We knew that we were going to have a caseworker come into the house for a home visit, and so obviously couldn’t keep it a secret. The kids and Gram had to know what was going on and after that, the cat was out of the bag.
Through it all we prayed, and we talked, and we kept the lines of communication open between us and our kids and our caseworker. We realized that we didn’t have the capacity for foster care itself, because G and Gram both really struggle with transitions. But we still felt called to keep walking towards adoption.
We made it through the paperwork end of the process. We had our first home visit. We were in good shape. Except then we were told we had to complete in-person training, 16 hours of it, and it had to be both of us. And unfortunately, we just couldn’t make it work with Mark’s schedule. We tried. And tried. And talked and thought and prayed. And it still wouldn’t work. It felt like we were trying to force a round peg into a square hole.
And we knew. That God was shutting this door, for whatever reason, and for however long, he was asking us to walk away, to give this desire to grow our family back to Him, and to surrender.
Sometimes the answer when we discern is “No”. But that doesn’t mean our discernment was in vain. Because our God is a God of journeys, not just of destinations, and the journey is where the growing happens. I’m glad and I’m grateful that we went through this process, even though now isn’t the right time to adopt for our family.
Mark and I learned so much about ourselves and each other through filling out our family histories. We are a stronger team because of this journey, it has made us so much more intentional in our communication and conversations, and I’m grateful for that. I learned a lot about my own desires during this walk, about the inner workings of my own heart, and how to hold my desires lightly, offering them to God continuously instead of just once and then plowing through alone.
I don’t know what God has planned for our family next. We’re still discerning, and I’m not sure where that will lead us. Someday adoption may be the plan. Perhaps there’s another biological child in store for us. I don’t know. But I’m not worried, and I’m not concerned, and there is a freedom in this position of not knowing that I wasn’t expecting. Because we followed when He asked us to and paid attention when He closed a door.
So if you’re facing a closed door and are questioning what God is doing, remember, that a closed door or a “no” doesn’t mean you did anything wrong, or that you discerned poorly. When we walk in faith we grow in faith. Our God is a God of journeys. And sometimes the journey is more important than the destination.